


Don't Wanna Go Home

by starfleetdicks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfleetdicks/pseuds/starfleetdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac can't control the impulsive urge to mark everything Scott owns. It’s a mistake the first time, intentional the second time, and the third is always the charm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Wanna Go Home

1.

It’s a mistake the first time. He’s in the window before he can think of the reason, following the thick scent of Scott into the blackened room. Under it, there’s the smell of Stiles’, lingering traces of perfume, and hospital disinfectant.

Isaac slides onto the bed, rolls in the sheets as the moon shines into the room. He’s found control now, most of the time. The moon’s like a physical touch though and he knows his eyes are molten. The soft shifting of his features doesn’t stop him from burying his face into Scott’s pillow on instinct, rubbing his own scent into the soft sheets and goose down.

He’s tempted, beyond tempted, to stay and wait. He’s tempted to find Scott. That’s why he was here in the first place.

Isaac doesn’t want to control himself with anger, pain, sadness, or with fear. He doesn’t want to think about why he’s so good at controlling himself. Why, instead of Erica, he was the one who could deal with the pain. No, he wants to be like Scott, idolizes— or is it hero worships— him.

Isaac reluctantly pulls himself from the bed, rumpled and disheveled from his invasion. There’s not a chance in hell that Scott won’t realize he’s been here. Isaac’s vaguely proud; the room smells better now.

He wishes he could bury Stiles’ odor but it’s dusted on everything.

He filches a dirty hoodie off the floor instead, presses his nose into it, inhales deeply. Yea, this’ll go with him. Scott probably won’t notice. Isaac shrugs it on, half petting it against himself.

He smiles as little smugly as he crawls over the bed to the window.

2.

The second time, it’s lacrosse practice.

They haven’t so much as spoken or looked at each other. Isaac’s been avoiding what he’s sure will be an awkward confrontation: slipping away from the pack in the woods when he hears Scott, ducking into classrooms with fellow classmates, leaving the cafeteria in the middle of conversations, using the bathroom way more than necessary in shared classes.

Lacrosse practice means it’s impossible to avoid Scott unless he ditches but he doesn’t want to hear Coach prattle on about him skipping anymore. So he’s there, in the locker rooms, changing out of his clothes and into uniform.

He pretends Scott doesn’t exist, pretends not to notice the ease in how Stiles talks to Scott, how they casually touch, or how his eyes keep drifting back to watch them.

It doesn’t mean Scott’s ignoring him though.

They catch eyes once, when Scott glances up, and of course Isaac doesn’t look away first. Scott doesn’t make a move to say anything, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

Stiles yanks off his shirt, struggling pathetically in it, distracting both of them as Scott moves to help, smiling. 

Isaac stays back after practice, rubs his fingers over the extra jersey Scott keeps in his locker. Can’t help himself from leaving faint scent trails only Scott can pick up.

3.

The third time, Scott corners him in an empty classroom when Isaac tries to duck into it to avoid him. Trapped. Scott’s frowning again and maybe this time it’s because Isaac’s got his hoodie on, the one he stole.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, eying Isaac and the hoodie.

Isaac can see his nostrils flaring as he silently sniffs the air. Maybe he’s checking to make sure the clothing is really his. It still smells strongly of Scott to Isaac, impossible to not recognize.

Derek seemed to figure it out pretty fast the first night he caught Isaac curled up under it. They don’t talk about it. They don’t talk about much. Another reason Isaac is tempted to seek out Scott. Scott talks, Scott’s seen him cry even, basically saved him on numerous occasions, showed him how to help take the pain away. Isaac wants to take Scott’s away, even if the wolf doesn’t talk about Allison leaving him like he’s sad. Isaac knows better. Scott sometimes smells like the ocean. 

“Isaac.” The tone is warning this time, calling his attention back to where it belongs.

Isaac just smiles slowly, shrugging casually. “Yeah, well. What can I say?” He fingers the zipper on the hoodie, wanting Scott to say something about it. About how Isaac is layering his scent almost everywhere Scott usually goes.

Isaac has noticed Scott is faster than Erica, Boyd, and him. It’s like he’s got all the important parts of being a werewolf down to a science. Probably helps that he’s been changed for longer, in control for longer. He’s in Isaac’s face before Isaac can really back away, tugging roughly on the hoodie, taking a deeper sniff of it, and narrowing his eyes.

“This is mine, Isaac. Why did you take it?”

Isaac tries to hide his reflexive flinching, how he cringes and tries to make himself smaller, disappear into the hoodie as if it could offer safety. “Don’t know. It was there.”

Scott must notice because he softens and it’s the Scott that Isaac saw at the vet when they were helping the dog. “Could’ve asked, you know,” Scott mumbles, letting it go and patting it back into place. “Barely fits you.”

Isaac’s almost positive Scott can smell the shift, hear it, the way his body goes from anxiety to an overdrive of hormones. He doesn’t comment on it though, just gives Isaac his number and tells him not stop sneaking around.

“Don’t avoid me. And stop rubbing yourself… your smell all over my desk and stuff. It’s distracting.”

Isaac doesn’t argue, takes mental notes, cradles his phone like it’s a treasure now. “Got it. Does this mean I can come over to your house if I want?”

“You already came over once without asking so it’s not like matters what I say,” Scott snorts.

It’s a small victory. Isaac already knows that Stiles’ goes over there uninvited all the time. He doesn’t move when Scott heads for the classroom door. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, too weird, following Scott like a puppy. Well, weirder than he’s already been.

He tries not to smile either, just smirk. He’s learned that from Derek, not to show too much emotion. It’s one of the few things he’s learned from Derek.

Scott stops at the door, holding onto the frame. “If this is all some weird courting thing, it might be working.” He grins, rolling his eyes. Isaac never imagined it was courting but if Scott insisted. “Maybe,” Scott teases as he slips out of the door into the hallway.

This time it’s hard not to smile, really smile.

He guesses Derek’s lessons in poker faces are about as good as his other lessons. Scott fails in his own ways because how is Isaac going to obey Scott’s request about not rubbing himself over available surfaces with incentive like that.

Isaac counts it as all the more reason to visit Scott more often, maybe try out this courting thing. All the more reason to try and spend every night there, commit the creases in the sheet to memory, and linger.


End file.
